Halloween

I am a person who remembers absolutely everything. I remember being sick when I was two years old and believed (one, hopes, due to fever and not psychopathology) that tiny men were marching out of my laundry hamper. I remember the first day of kindergarten, the exact words in the note from Eric saying he didn’t like me that way in fifth grade, the way the flap of skin looked after I jumped on a clam shell in Maine when I was ten, and the phone numbers of all my friends from high school.  I remember the way the air smelled in Boston on a day when it carried the ocean into the City, and the diesel smell of the streets in Europe. I remember slights and offenses and try hard to forget them. I remember generosities and kindnesses, and try to cherish them.  I remember to do the things I say I’m going to do, unless I’m under enormous stress. (That’s a whole different issue).

So remembering things about Halloweens past should be easy, right?  All of the pumpkins, and costumes, and cobweb-covered porches should transport me back, like Proust in Rememberance of Things Past:

And suddenly the memory revealed itself: The taste was that of the little piece of madeleine which on Sunday mornings at Combray (because on those mornings I did not go out before mass), when I went to say good morning to her in her bedroom, my aunt Léonie used to give me, dipping it first in her own cup of tea or tisane.

No dice. I love Halloween; in general I prefer the autumn holidays because they don’t happen in summer (which I dislike) and I don’t have to buy gifts, decorate the house or forget to send cards again.

It's that time of year of again...where gross food is welcomed by the little boys that inhabit my house. Nothing brings a smile to their face like something bloody, goopy, poopy or oozy when Halloween is in the air. They love it.

I saw these cookies and thought, my kids need to be welcomed home from school with these somewhat authentic looking bloody band-aids.

Sure enough, they were a hit. And really, these are not even a recipe, I mean there is nothing to their construction, but they got rave reviews. I could have baked all day from scratch and not gotten the fan fare these received. Go figure.

With all the leftover Halloween candy over here, it was time to do something with it, something different than just mindlessly eating piece by piece. Unfortunately my biggest motivation for getting rid of the Halloween candy is because I want to buy the same candy but in red and green Christmas packaging. It just never ends.

I saw this cake around the blogosphere and knew I had to try it. Let me just say, it is the best darned dessert, I am shocked. I was worried it would taste like a bunch of mushy candy but the flavors were very distinct and VERY GOOD. Of course my kids thought I was a hero for chopping up candy and putting it in dessert, go figure.

The best part was discovering this terrific recipe for vanilla bundt cake, it's delicious. I mean really, delicious, light, tender and moist. I can see using this cake as a vessel for many goodies from now on, I loved it.

So get your Halloween candy out, even the ones not liked very much will taste good in this cake. I promise.

Candy corn—you either love or hate the candy. I used to despise candy corn as a kid. I'd always be disappointed If ever anyone gave me candy corn when I went trick or treating. What, no chocolate?

But as an adult I came to appreciate a nibble here and there of candy corn. Maybe it's the melt-in-your-mouth sweetness, but I think Halloween just wouldn't be the same without it—whether you like it or not. If you happen to have bagfuls of leftover Halloween candy, why not use it all up in these sweet treats?

Shortbread makes a perfect base for many cookies and none more so than these bar cookies. They're spread with melted white chocolate and then topped with colorful candy corn. Everyone will love the sugary sweetness—just make sure your family and friends don't eat too much because you don't want them turning into cookie monsters.

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